


Can I Get That To Go?

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-06
Updated: 2004-12-06
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS: Seasons 7 and 8 Birthright, Affinity, SacrificesSUMMARY: Some things are just universal, as a few of the team discover.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 | Gen Fanfiction | Can I Get That To Go?

##  Can I Get That To Go?

##### Written by Sue   
Comments? Write to us at forward@stargatefan.com

  * SPOILERS : Seasons 7 and 8 Birthright, Affinity, Sacrifices 
  * SUMMARY : Some things are just universal, as a few of the team discover. 
  * PG-13 [R] [A] [Hu]



* * *

This was not possible, and yet here she was, striking a rigid pose like a bolt of lightning in front of the compact rectangular device. DanielJackson had called it a T.V., a flat screen state of the art one, at that. How his problematic visitor had gotten here, now that was a question of serious concern. How likely was it that he would gain an answer unassisted? Seeing her again, nevertheless, even under this peculiar circumstance, invoked deep-seated pleasure which stirred him.

Reflecting at this very moment that having her here caused him keen happiness startled him.

"Ishta..."

"Teal'c." The imposing blonde warrior, Moloc's former high priestess, now the leader of a robust band, exquisite in the way she carried herself, a most perplexing woman, spoke his name as if she were calling him to task. Indeed, some things *never* changed. The staff weapon she gripped in her hands she drove into the burnished wood floor as though driving it through a Goa'uld victim's treacherous heart.

Her hard-edged facial expression conveyed that perhaps that was what she had in mind. She would never be content until all their enemies were vanquished. The oddest thing about her being in his new living quarters, decidedly off-base, was that no more than five minutes ago, he'd had a passing thought of how he wished she were here.

Their last encounter had not been as satisfying as their first...

He had expressed that thought to the lieutenant colonel just the other day when she had suggested they go for a walk in the park not far from his apartment. Samatha Carter had the unique way about her of getting him to open up, more of late, than formerly.

"How is your presence possible?" Teal'c voiced in a deceptively controlled tone of voice. Much more than Ishta's physical beauty, the splendor of the soul- searching spirituality she possessed enthralled him to no end.

Ishta did not answer right away. Her eyes, full of intensity, looked away from his face and surveyed this place he was calling home for a number of weeks now.

A delicate glass figurine in the form of an apple, somewhat cloudy in appearance, seemed to hold Ishta's special interest, Teal'c noted. "That is a gift, an unexpected one from SamathaCarter," he told her after she had approached where he had placed it, off to the left on a little wooden shelf. "She identified it as a 'housewarming present.' An object...a keepsake bestowed when one resides in a new abode."

It gratified him to know that Ishta's curiosity was always as keen as his.

"She is the short-haired female who tends the Stargate," Ishta said, sounding all-knowing.

"She is one of many who perform that vital task." Teal'c lifted the ornament from its place, holding it out for Ishta to sample tactilely. When she took it from him, her action was as though the glass apple had never left his palm until he realized he no longer held it. Her quickness was one of many formidable attributes which made her such a consummate warrior. He would never forget how they'd battled, how she was a most worthy opponent. But more significantly, afterward, that night, she had proven to be... Teal'c opened his eyes and they widened when her words reached him.

"It is beautiful..."

"Beautiful," he repeated, staring solely at Ishta. Dismissing the 'how,' of what was responsible for her being with him now, he softly asked, "Why have you come?"

"Does my presence not please you?"

Performing his customary genuflection, already hearing the directness of his response in his mind, Teal'c straightened and responded, "Yes, but your inquiry to mine does not supply the reason."

Ishta laid the staff weapon aside, allowing it to rest against the wall that supported the shelf. She gazed again at the light refracting ornament and then at Teal'c. "I know you desire to be with me..." She returned the ornament to its place.

"What you say is truth, however, my desire to be with you explains nothing. Tell me, has my desire for your being with me portend to a mode of transport that precludes the use of the Stargate, a starship, or transport ring?"

Ishta streamed to Teal'c and said nothing until he couldn't help notice the necklace she fingered and

wore like a phylactery around her elegant neck. "My stay is of short duration. This pendant, of ancient origin, makes my presence possible. I thought to use it because my desire to be with you is great."

"Indeed," Teal'c acknowledged, "as is mine. A Tok'ra chaplet; most elaborate. The parallel of which is not easily perceived." Its latticework was exquisite and the fire of its gems tantalized Teal'c's eyes. She was admired. The notion that she was intrigued him, and along with a spike of curiosity welling up inside of him, a twinge of dismay did as well. "Undoubtedly, you are highly favored by..." He paused long enough to see Ishta's eyes widen in perception. "Someone..."

"I awoke to find it lying beside me."

"*It*, or the one who gave it to you?" Teal'c said with a distinct crimp in his delivery. Why was he feeling like this? Ishta was not his wife. Could he ever love another as he had loved his beloved Drey'auc, despite her having turned to another in his forced absence? And then there had been Shan'auc... Her untimely death left a bad taste in his soul to this day.

No, he was not married to this lovely, proud Jaffa female who wielded valor with a mere look, a quintessential warrior. She bore the brand of Anubis, but she served no one, or nothing save the fight to free her people, her fellow Ha'ktyl. Yet, it could not be denied that something special, something strong and binding was unfolding between them.

"I awoke very much alone," Ishta defended, sounding almost wistful as though it was something she mourned. "My first thought was to use this powerful gift to come be with you." Her voice took on a decidedly defiant edge. "If you find my presence distasteful, then it is fitting I leave at onc--"

Teal'c bustled her into his powerful arms, silencing her with a single fell swoop of his eager mouth, his lips hot and demanding, pervasive and unrelenting upon hers. He embraced her as a man who had not known true satisfaction for too long a time. Time...it felt as though it had stopped for as long as their mouths explored each other's. Finally, breaking off from her tremulous mouth, he said in a brooding, gravelly voice, "Stay..."

"As you wish," Ishta murmured against Teal'c's cheek that blazed against her lips as they caressed it. "I embrace what is destined for us, although my time here must be of limited duration, out of necessity." She gazed at the sign on his forehead, branding him as a devout servant of Apophis, but no longer. With a slow deliberate sweep of her index finger, she traced the convoluted design.

"Out of necessity," Teal'c uttered in an undertone, knowing now that it was impossible to deny his strong feelings for this incredible woman, every bit his equal, and then some. "I was about to enter into kelno'reem...the practice still proves useful."

The intrigue in her voice almost blared. "I can think of something more..." Ishta paused, adding zest to what she said next. "Stimulating..."

The doorbell, rung insistently several times, jolted Teal'c out of the heady, yet fleeting reverie Ishta's sultry mood promised. The unanticipated clamorous noise had made Ishta jump, but the hold Teal'c's arms had on her steadied her.

Beyond the door of his apartment, after the doorbell rang again, Teal'c and Ishta heard:

"Anybody home? Hey, Teal'c it's us... Remember? Poker."

The unmistakable clarion voice of Jack O'Neill jarred the couple out of each other's arms.

The doorbell rang three more times; the person doing the ringing was undoubtedly persistent, and in certain circles, downright stubborn.

Teal'c and his incidental guest eyed one another, warily, each a bit perplexed. Crediting their keen hearing, they heard a much quieter voice speak. This one, more subdued, significantly less boisterous, belonging to the learned scientist, Daniel Jackson, underscored a distinct possibility. "Maybe he forgot the plans we made about coming over tonight."

The archeologist shifted the wide box to his other hand before frowning. The rich, sweet aroma that clung to the air near their noses was driving him crazy, Jack too.

"Like hell he did," O'Neill unilaterally rejected. "Could be he's taking a leak." That conjecture was followed by three more ramming jabs to the doorbell.

In a tone even more subdued than Jackson's, Teal'c vouched, "I will send them away."

Before Ishta confirmed that he had made the correct decision, pounding upon the door began.

"Teal'c, we know you're in there. There's a light on, for cryin' out loud. Knowing you, you wouldn't book, leaving it lit." Out in the hallway, Jack bounced a look off Daniel that indicated how pleased he was with himself having made that deduction. "By the bazillionth mission, predictability really sets in."

Daniel handed Jack's look back to him with a thorny roll of his eyes and a shake of his head that was barely there. After the SGC CO gave the door another good pounding, Daniel said, "Like I said, he probably forgot. We could always go downtown and shoot some pool."

"I wanna play poker," Jack peevishly insisted, pouting to beat the band. "Not in the mood for pool. 'Sides, after the shellacking he gave me, last time we played ping-pong, I owe him a solid butt-whup, hell--several." Then his eyes washed over the box he'd made Daniel carry. "And we brought pizza," the Brigadier General, in hot pursuit of a boys' night out, declared stridently for all on the floor to hear. 'Cause we know how much you like it!" He touched the box, annoyed that despite the pizzeria's proximity, a mere block away, it wasn't making any difference. "It's getting cold--"

"Uh, Jack..." O'Neill waved him off. Daniel shrugged, counting to three before the first agitated tenant opened his or her door to see what all the commotion was about.

"What's the problem? You have a woman in there?" Jack derided, targeting the self-conscious doctor who held many prestigious degrees with a saucy wink. "As long as she's not a dog she can join the party!"

Ishta scowled at the door, preparing to show herself. This man Teal'c called 'O'Neill,' was always demanding something of someone with an attitude that generally struck her as irreverent, irksome most times. She was no coward. If he was calling her out, she would call him on it. If he needed to learn a lesson tonight, she would be an apt teacher.

Teal'c, however, told her without so much as saying a word to go into his bedroom to wait there. Once he had made his apologies to his company, their mutually pleasurable communing would continue, uninterrupted.

Looking volatile, Ishta stalked off in the direction of the open bedroom door, throwing sulky glances over her shoulder in Teal'c's direction. She hefted the staff weapon in her right hand before closing the door.

"Jack--come on!" Daniel looked as though he was squirming, like that time he had had no idea who he or the SG-1 team were. The former colonel sure had a way with words, the less than diplomatic choice of them. "If he was around he would have answered by now."

"Ya think?" O'Neill gave a final, solid whack against the door with a tightly balled fist. "Just wait till next time when he complains the three of us never spend any quality time-off together." His hands flew to the ceiling. "Fine! We'll eat in the car!" He glared at the closed door again. "Talk about inconsider--" He was just about to wheel around on his heel with a dour look of disgust on his face when the apartment door opened a crack.

"Good evening, O'Neill, DanielJackson..." Upon completing the slight cant of his head denoting deference, placidly, Teal'c regarded his fellow SG-1 teammates and close friends. Noting the look of keen anticipation in their eyes, he articulated as though pontificating, "Due to a circumstance beyond my control, it is necessary I make a change in plans. Perhaps tomorrow night will prove a more suitable time to engage in playing games with cards."

As 'pissed' as he had become, O'Neill was not about to accept any excuse. He was starving, and he had premeditated 'butt-whupping' to perform. A deflecting motion with the back of his hand, and a 'full steam ahead' thrust past the man who was built along the lines of a mountain, brought the SGC's new boss inside the Jaffa's new digs.

Daniel, as quick as a jackrabbit, fell in behind the leader's wake. Jackson, unlike O'Neill, rattled off apologies that he hoped would cover them both. His eyes seemed to convey, 'Hey, Teal'c, you know what he's like when he gets like this...' Daniel walked past the bedroom door enroute to the kitchen so he could put the pie down, get plates and napkins. The heady aroma of fresh, brick oven pizza lingered a bit in the air before wafting in the general direction of the bedroom door.

"I must ask that you honor my request for your presence tomorrow night." Despite his monumental forbearance and stoicism for one so formidable, which could reliably be counted upon when things seemed their bleakest, Teal'c called upon his reserves. This was one of the rare instances where the former possessor of a symbiote saw himself hoist O'Neill up bodily, and toss his human fishing buddy out on his ear.

Jack was setting up the card table, the single piece of low end furniture he'd sworn to Teal'c that every bachelor pad couldn't be without.

Practically in a split second, the warrior reproved himself. Allowing the feral side of his temper to hold sway was unacceptable. When it siphoned sager judgment it was repugnant. "I do not wish to play poker, O'Neill."

"Sure you do," Jack guaranteed, a mercenary glint darted to and fro in his eyes. "What the hell else do you have better to do?"

Teal'c's eyes narrowed, nearly becoming slits as he observed Jack going right on setting up. In no time at all the backpack carrying the cards and chips was empty, and O'Neill sat in his spot tendering a look of complacency on his face. He had the cards, shuffling and re-shuffling them as though they had a breath of life all their own.

"Sit yourself down, Teal'c, my man. The name of the game's poker. You're about to be schooled." Jack peeked up from under the brim of the green visor, the kind Vegas dealers used to wear. He wore his smile all shiny and smart-alecky; the cards he shuffled like a pro. He did until they erupted out of his hands as he gawked in abject astonishment. "What the *hell*?"

Ishta had stalked out of the bedroom and was heading straight for the kitchen where Daniel still fussed over the pizza. Jack's prediction had been premature. The succulent pie was still piping hot; it smelled far better than wonderful.

The determined female warrior was captivated by the arresting aroma of pungent tomato sauce, crust browned to perfection and gloriously hot cheese...ooh, the cheese. The sum total of the smell defied mouth-watering description.

All Ishta knew was that she must have some of this new food that filled her nostrils which was making her hungrier, still, hungrier than she'd ever been in her life. She could not recall the last time she'd eaten, really eaten to quell this sharp hunger. Meat, how she longed to taste some. Killing game had not gone well lately. Her sisters, though fierce hunters, had failed time and time again to locate enough to sustain their people.

The power of speech continued to evade Jack. He did nothing but make meaningless movements with his mouth, but uttering no sound, not even so much as a, "What's *she* doing here?" Dumbstruck classified his condition, perfectly.

Daniel nearly collided with the famished woman, balancing three pizza-laden plates as he was. He halted dead in his tracks, and when he finally found his tongue, he uttered in a stilted voice, "Uh...hi, Ishta,...uh...when did you get here?"

"Moments before you did, DanielJackson." Teal'c went to stand by her side, striking something of a protective stance.

O'Neill revived to interrogate, "Forget the 'when.' I want to know HOW. *How* does she turn up here with the 'Gate miles away and not a whisper of a security breach? Explain that, I defy you!" The commander's eyes canvassed Jackson's face which was as puzzled looking as his own.

Rapidly, Ishta was too busy filling her face with many hefty bites of Guido's sinfully satisfying pizza to pay the brig. general the slightest attention. This food was ambrosia! She would never get enough.

Once Teal'c amplified, as best he could, the reason of how, O'Neill whistled several times. Daniel asked the Jaffa to run through it a second time, just in case he'd missed anything.

Jack, with a snap of his head back to Ishta said, "Her being here opens a messy can of worms that hasn't even been labeled yet. The security nightmare for starters. Scenario this for me will you. Goa'ulds get their hands on that piece of jewelry, and let's suppose, just for sanity's sake, what she's wearing isn't the only one in existence. Goa'ulds popping up anywhere, anyplace, anytime on Earth and we're none the wiser. How do we address something like that?" His sigh should have been recorded for posterity. "Where do we even begin?"

Jack knew what he sounded like, but didn't care. Every blue moon or so, he was entitled to color his voice with how he felt. After all these screwy years, and not one nervous breakdown in his past. Now that was a record to be proud of.

Sagely, Teal'c assuaged, "No Goa'uld could ever possess a Tok'ran chaplet. Possession of one would mean their immediate death, further proof of the falsities they are. Only one who sympathizes with the Tok'ra may possess what serves them well."

"So, with the playing field back to being leveled, no serious threat of covert incursions from unfriendlies whose only mission in life is to destroy life on Earth?" Jack wanted confirmed.

Teal'c's deadpan expression was resiliency personified. "No, O'Neill. No threat. Only the pure in heart can safely make use of such a powerful gift...a gift bestowed in adulatory gratitude." Admiration welled in his eyes that were attentively focused on his comely visitor.

By now, Ishta was on her second slice. The delight to her taste buds this nourishment brought knew no bounds, nor any end in sight. She was eating this second slice as quickly as she had devoured the first.

The thing of it was, she ate with cool detachment, her facial expression indecipherable. The only hint that she might be enjoying what she consumed was her faithfully keeping at it, no sign of a pause in sight. She was on her third slice...

Jack jumped up and made a beeline for the kitchen. He had shelled out most of the dough for the pie and he'd be darned if he wasn't getting at least one measly piece for himself. From the kitchen Daniel and Teal'c heard him say, "You two better get yours while the getting's good. Some appetite on this lady. She makes Sam look anorexic."

Ishta stormed in before the brawny Jaffa and the lanky linguist. She saw the remaining slices and the sight reinforced her appetite. She was opposite O'Neill at the counter where the rest of the pie was. It dawned on her then that she might have damaged any decorum she prided herself on maintaining, but hunger was hunger.

Jack, who had already paid a visit to the fridge, eyeballed her with a bottle of beer in one hand, and a warmish slice in the other.

When the trio heard her burp, Ishta viewed them through contented eyes. Still hungry though, she wondered...perhaps Teal'c would yield to her what he had not yet claimed.

As though the ruggedly handsome Jaffa had read her mind, the 'soft touch' gave her silent permission to help herself to what he did not want.

"I gather pizza's her new big hit," Jack followed up before taking another bite of his slice, while watching Ishta start in on her fourth. O'Neill looked at Teal'c. "Only second to you, big guy..." He crinkled his eyes at her. "She gives new meaning to scarfing-down." It could be worse, he thought, Ishta could have nabbed both of his slices, the ones he had ordered the pizza maker to smother in pepperoni.

Daniel looked from Ishta to Teal'c, realization that he and Jack were intruding in the worst way had made a strong foothold. "Uh, Jack, I think now would be a great time to...leave." He peppered O'Neill with obvious looks, knowing how he would feel if the situation were reversed and they were the ones hoping for a little privacy.

With concern in his voice, Teal'c questioned his busily-munching guest. "Ishta, have you not eaten in some time?"

Daniel stopped visualizing what his idea of first class female companionship was. He would be with Sha're, his beloved, one day, he hoped, one day soon.

Nodding, Ishta acknowledged Teal'c, and when she had actually taken the time to swallow like a normal person, she divulged, "Food has become scarce. We are going through very difficult times--"

"More difficult than life and times with Moloc?" Jack butted in.

"Only the names are interchangeable," Daniel said, a large measure of resignation having figured in.

"Tyranny only breeds more tyranny," Ishta objectified, striking a menacing stance as she continued filling her mouth.

"Why so little food?" Daniel pursued.

Unable to help herself, Ishta praised, "This is exquisite. Where is there more?"

"Yep," Jack agreed, "next to nobody doesn't like piz-zaaa!"

"The new Goa'ulds on the block, the reason?" Jackson concluded. "So to speak..." He scrutinized Teal'c, a somber look having washed over his face.

"*Is* the new system lord the cause of your people's plight?" Teal'c asked.

"As much as placing blame on Ba'al would please me," Ishta endorsed, "it is not. We hunt too well. The numbers of creatures have dwindled greatly."

"Bummer." With sated eyes, and before gnawing on his slice some more, Jack offered, "We could locate another stomping ground for you, piece of cake." Mentally, he snapped his fingers. That's what they'd forgotten--cake, a nice thick hunk of a chocolately one. "Do what you did last time. Gather lock, stock and everybody and everything up--and don't you dare forget the horses. Not the horses. Bring them through to SGC. We'll locate someplace with lots of furry critters quicker than you can finish another slice oozing mozzarella."

"At least until we've had time to analyze the bigger picture," Daniel added, sounding prudent while calculating. "Better to err on the side of caution than thumb a nose at it."

"Never want to do that," Jack granted, almost grunting. Some lessons you never wanted to relearn.

"With some careful digging we could relocate you to an environment better suited to your needs," Daniel summed up.

"My sisters would enjoy this sustenance. Where is more plentiful?" Ishta, ever the pragmatist, had her priorities as straight as always.

"At Guido's...the best honkin' pizzeria this side of Cheyanne Mountain. Want to know what makes it the best, aside from the twelve different pizza combos they make?" Whimsically, Jack tossed at her, "Have you tried the sausage yet? It's dynamite!"

Teal'c, Ishta...even Daniel stared at him as though he had taken another crash course in Ancient.

"What?" With a straight face, Jack gave a snort of a laugh. "The place is open twenty-four, seven." Knowingly cocksure, he winked at Ishta whose face was colorfully smeared with sauce. "How many pies do you think you're gonna need?"

Daniel's and Teal'c's expressions held, although Daniel eventually opened his mouth wide enough so a negligible, "Oh" escaped.

Giving his head a quick scratch, Jackson was not sure this 'quick-fix,' so to speak, was the best idea their fearless leader had ever had. "Uh,...Jack...you can't possibly believ--"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just sayin' it's a temporary solution. Look, pizza's filling, relatively inexpensive and like I said...who doesn't like it? As a first time experience, it's a winner, hands down." He glanced Ishta's way by way of a confirmation. "It's a big hit with her, and we all know what a 'soft-sell' *she* is." The roll of his eyes, he purposely guarded from Ishta, lent emphasis.

Teal'c exchanged a quiet look with Daniel, recalling his first gastronomic encounter with the nourishment that he had enjoyed so much so that whenever the decision of what the team would eat was up to him, pizza usually was his first choice. "Perhaps you are right, O'Neill."

"Now, that's the spirit," Jack touted. "We'll swing by Guido's, place the order..."

"Think it's safe to say the biggest one he ever and will ever have," Daniel modestly offered.

"PLACE the order," Jack continued, heedless to further opinionated interference, "and take the haul back to the CMC." He wondered aloud. "'Gating shouldn't cool them off any faster than they normally would if they were taken across town. Sweet. Well, we'll find out." He lobbed to Ishta, "Nothing worse than cold pizza."

"Sounds like a plan," Daniel finally ceded, getting on board; he didn't have anything better. 'Quick-fixes'...they were certainly no strangers to them, not by any means, and nine times out of ten everything worked out okay, more or less, in the end. Funny how no one was ever interested in hearing about the less. That was probably because 'the less' meant lives lost.

"Ishta," Jack took up again, over Jackson's and Teal'c's suddenly private conversation, "roughly how many mouths would you say there are to feed?"

"Our enclave numbers fifty-eight." Her eyes took on a contemplative look, as though she were seeing every one of her people's proud, indomitable faces standing before her.

Jack did the quick math in his head and his look of self-assurance stayed intact. As though the idea had walked up and tapped him on the shoulder, he treaded over to Teal'c's phone and put the call through himself. His conversation with whomever was on the receiving end was punctuated by raspy little chuckles. "So it'll be no problem getting that to go? Peachy. Not a problem. I understand. I understand. No. It's easier for us to come get. You ring, we'll swing by."

Ending the dialogue, then the call rather abruptly, Jack told them, "Joe, Guido's nephew, said our order should be ready in two to three and a half hours, tops. In the background Guido shouted how two of his cousins and his brother, who own their own pizzerias, will agree to help out. They owe him. In the meantime..." As though he had something up his sleeve, he jigged his eyebrows up and down. Tightly, his eyes zeroed in on Ishta. "Ever play poker?"

She looked at him strangely, as though there was a language barrier. When she burped, much more quietly this time, and looking a good deal more sheepish, O'Neill looked as pleased as he did when parked on the shore of his favorite fishing hole, regardless of whether or not he was catching anything.

"Thought not. So, you'll learn." To Daniel and Teal'c he half-whispered, half-threatened, "She'll learn. If she's a quick study, and she probably is, and she's good, we'll make teams. Carter's always pointing out how macho we get when it's poker." He reseated himself at the folding table and waited for the deceptively accepting men to join him. "Ishta," he pulled up the nearest folding chair, patting its center, "have a seat..."

The warrior obeyed, without so much as a scowl in protest, which seemed so unlike her. "What is poker?"

"Watch a few hands, I'll explain as it goes," Jack coached. Ishta, although appearing somewhat bemused, was still attentive, over all. O'Neill's manner was like a dare. "Ask all the questions you want," he accommodatively obliged.

"Do you play this game well, Teal'c?" Ishta asked in a hushed tone, setting herself apart.

He answered her with his usual bow of his head.

"Very well. Teach me," Ishta proclaimed, looking as cryptic as the Sphinx. "*All* of you. I do not play games, they are pointless, but since the offer to teach me was made, I accept the invitation."

"Help yourself to more pizza if you like," Jack suggested. "There's plenty."

"I have eaten sufficient."

"Finally," Jack silently muttered. He began dealing the cards whose backs were decorated with striped bass breaking some water's surface.

Teal'c searched Ishta's face with mellowed eyes, their intuitive gazes locked on each other, and both felt contentment...

Two hours in, and Ishta proved O'Neill right; she was a natural at poker. She could have invented the proverbial 'poker face,' she and Teal'c. Arrangements were made a month from the upcoming Friday to hold a tournament at the SGC, Sam and Ishta, Jack teamed up with Teal'c and Daniel as the alternate.

The phone sounded off a half hour later.

Expectantly, Jack answered it and when he clicked to end the call, he announced that the six dozen pies were ready. The group wasted no time going to get them.

* * *

When Guido asked why so many pies, Jack related in his inimitable round-about fashion that his friend Ishta was throwing the mother of all parties. One look at the warrior woman, who looked as though she had a ramrod for a spine, although she wore one of Teal'c's roomy jackets, and Guido was an easy mark for giving her a generous discount. By his manner it was obvious the ladies' man had a definite thing for blondes, if his two ex-wives, one platinum, the other golden, were any indications.

Jack, in a sweeping gesture, said he was springing for the bill and wanted it put on his tab. The USAF would reimburse him, well at least he thought it might. Seeing what good friends he and Guido had become, Guido let his mouth-watering creations go for an even fifty bucks. Everyone helped load the aromatic haul into Jack's heavy duty truck, the new one he'd just bought which had four doors complete with a real backseat and an enclosed flatbed.

The pizzas had been carefully ensconced in individual thermal pouches to assure they would keep warm for at least an hour's time.

The ride to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex approximated lightspeed, nearly. Advantageously, there hadn't been a trooper within a twelve-mile radius to pull them over. Having never ridden in a truck before, Ishta nearly wore herself out trying to track the shadowy, rustic scenery as it raced by on either side. Teal'c, sitting beside her, on the passenger side in front, informed her that O'Neill's ability to operate the vehicle safely was great; she was in no immediate danger.

From behind them, in the backseat, they heard the historian produce a weird noise. Hastily, he upheld that something in his throat was choking him. The gagging sound he made sounded authentic.

Ishta transferred her unreadable expression from Teal'c to O'Neill.

Jack chanced a moment, took his eyes off the rural road that was darkening as they veered around blind corners, to flash her, what was for him, a winning smile. His wink, and the set of his jaw bordered on conspiratorial. "Teal'c's right. Just leave the backseat driving to Daniel. Nervous Nellie..."

The sound of his name and the nervous reference brought a, "Hey!" to Jackson's lips.

With his eyes back where they belonged, glued to the precarious highs and lows of the roadway, Jack commended, "You played some mean hands of poker, Ishta. Maybe..." He floored the pedal some more, commensurate with the steepening grade. "Instead of men versus women, we could make it the non-degreed people against the degreeds."

"Come again?" Daniel objected.

Negotiating a hairpin turn at break neck speed, Jack elaborated, "We'll whip your eggheaded asses!" He laughed heartily. "I like the way this little warrior plays." He jostled Ishta's leg that was innocently wedged next to his. "Brings out the card shark in me." Sounding completely on the level, he avowed, "But I'd *never* cheat." He chanced another glance at Ishta's umbra-dappled face. "In case no one's ever told ya this before, you've got a beaut of a natural killer instinct, go for the jugular mentality. Sweet—now *that's* a beautiful thing."

"And what about Sam?" Daniel presented, a trace of disbelief around the edges of his voice. He wondered if Jack would be foaming at the mouth with praise if the dyed-in-the-wool savvy colonel were here sitting with them.

"What about her?" Jack retaliated as though there was a glint in his tone.

"She's both--a soldier *and* a scholar." Daniel folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in the seat, feeling self-satisfied, like he'd closed a case if he were a litigator.

"Carter's, Carter."

"And that means *what,* exactly?"

"You've got the best of both worlds on your side, so stop sounding as though you've already lost."

"Not me," Daniel snapped back.

"*You.*"

"*Not.*"

"*You.*"

"*You,*" Daniel insisted, rattling the back of O'Neill's headrest like a saber.

"Stop mangling the upholstery, dagnabit!"

Ishta began edging closer to Teal'c just as he announced, "We have arrived at Cheyenne Mountain."

"Good," Jack blustered, sounding as though he had gained the upper hand. "The sooner we 'Gate, the sooner we feed some very hungry people..."

* * *

A young girl, no more than six or seven, in Earth years, stood looking up at O'Neill who wore his 'shades' despite the fact that the sun had set a while ago. As she chewed her pizza, its crust held close to her mouth, the raven-haired child could not take her eyes off the brig. general; seeing males this close up was uncommon. Her pale blue eyes held to him as though their owner was transfixed.

"Good, huh?" Jack asked, glancing down at her again. When she nodded in a delicate fashion, he airily replied, "Sure. Knew you'd like it." That was the general consensus of the warrior band. Everyone had given the new food a try, and it, as O'Neill had predicted, had gone over big. "Not a lacto-intolerant one in the bunch." He smiled, sort of, that weird little curving at the side of his mouth type of smile. The young one still observing him intently thought he had smiled, at any rate. The commander made a move to leave the tent. The archeologist followed.

It was time to get back...

The little girl got in step with the head of the SGC, reaching up for his hand, waiting for this new friend who spoke funny to take hers. When Teal'c happened to look away from Ishta's face, after he told her he would not be leaving with O'Neill, it surprised him to see the recently-promoted man accept the young child's humble offering.

Ishta touched Teal'c's shoulder before he decided to accompany Jackson and O'Neill to the 'Gate to see them off. "Thank you. Your friendship with the Tau'ri has proven to be beneficial."

"They are powerful allies, despite their inherent tendency to trust too easily." He bowed his head to her. "I am proud to say I will always be indebted to them. The assistance they have rendered, and have promised to render until our enemies have been vanquished can never be fully repaid."

"Indeed," Ishta agreed, walking beside Teal'c as if it were her rightful place none would dare contest. "It is good you will stay on to help us when the time comes for us to go." As he held the flap of the tent up for her until she passed, she saw the candor of his concern and the strength of his convictions. Truly, they were on the same side, they had always been.

"You are welcome, Ishta..."

Jack and Daniel waited at the Stargate, each looking expectant. Quite a number of the warriors had gathered around too, not looking quite as expectant, more surfeited than anything else. The band would be eating pizza for days. One or two of the buxom gals, strategically standing close to the Tau'ri visitors, were unmistakably giving them 'the eye.'

"I suppose it's their way of saying thanks," Daniel opined in an undertone.

O'Neill exchanged a squeamish look with the women and then reluctantly with Jackson until he finally felt it was his gentlemanly duty to blurt, "Ladies, we're taken...," which only spurred their unwanted admirers on to position themselves closer. Grateful to catch sight of Teal'c approaching with Ishta, he said in a booming voice, "Well, big guy, we'll get back to ya once we've located something promising for team Xena."

"We will await your signal, O'Neill," Teal'c staidly replied.

"Ishta..." He was in full out remind mode. "Poker either before the exodus, or after. Whichever comes first."

"Understood, O'Neill. I will play your game," she stated with a proud uplift of her head. She came to stand before him, a stone's throw from the dial-out mechanism.

The way she had said so brought a halting smile to the general's lips. "Glad to hear it. Looking forward to it."

With her face, seemingly set as hard as the substance the Stargate and its paraphernalia were composed of, Ishta crowded into O'Neill's breathing space. "On behalf of my people, I offer our sincere thanks for all the help you have provided and continue to provide. We shall always be grateful, and ready to serve your interests whenever the need arises."

There was an awkward moment, a very awkward moment, and before O'Neill had the glimmer of a clue of her intentions, Ishta had her arms about his neck, hugging him tightly to her lithe, yet amazingly strong body. The grip she had on him was staggering. "Thank you," she whispered directly into his ear, then gruffly pushed herself away.

"A-anytime," Jack responded clumsily. "We're never more than GDO access away." He raced his eyes over to Daniel, hoping for the go ahead, and to his relief, he had it. "Teal'c," he said brusquely, "like I said, we'll be in touch."

"Understood, O'Neill. We will await your word."

"Daniel."

The 'Gate was primed for their immediate departure.

"You don't have to call me twice, Jack."

"For a change. Let's go." Midway enroute to the 'Gate, O'Neill did something he rarely did at times like these. He ticked the seconds off in his head, turned, and briefly waved goodbye; it was more like a flutter of his fingers. "'Bon appetit,' people."

Steadily, the casually dressed departers advanced on the shimmering masque of circular transference, readily disappearing through it in a matter of steps and were gone.

Ishta faced Teal'c, thoughtfully, she studied his face before she spoke. "When you play this game of poker with the Tau'ri, is there pizza?"

He replied, looking and sounding just as thoughtful. "There can be, if that is what is desired."

"I will, when the time for poker and pizza comes." She made her decision deliberate when she took his hand, and began to lead him to her tent. Teal'c held her hand. Then, gently, coaxing her fingers to interlace with his, graciously bowed from the neck, and he knew peace.

"Indeed..."

Ishta, although never her custom, bowed in imitation. "Ha'ktyl..."

"Always."

"Jaffa."

"Together." Teal'c meant it with all his heart.

Once inside the toasty tent, away from eyes belonging to those who might not understand, they renewed what had begun between them long ago...

**The End**

  


* * *

> © 10/2004 Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate   
> (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko   
> Productions. Worldwide Television, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and   
> Stargate SG-1 Prod. Ltd. Partnership. All other characters, the story idea and   
> story itself are the sole property of the author. This story is for   
> entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright   
> infringement is intended.  
> 

* * *

  


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